


Fold

by bird of paper and string (jalexic)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Kinda, Self-Discovery, Short & Sweet, i wrote this sucha long time ago lol, its bad but i might aswell post it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalexic/pseuds/bird%20of%20paper%20and%20string
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because maybe art wasn't about perfection, and it was okay for her paper dolls to be a little flawed sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fold

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i wrote this forever ago and i completely forgot about it until i was going through my old stuff. it's complete so i thought i might aswell post it. it's fun to see how much my writing style has changed over the years though :)

_ Obtain a piece of paper (preferably 8.5" x 11"). _

_Fold in quarters of the pleated fashion._

_Draw the outline of a woman. Her head must be symmetrically round and her dress straight._

_Cut out the woman and unfold carefully._

_Straighten out the creases and stand up your row of proud paper perfections._

\-----

Blonde hair fell in blue eyes, and a pink tongue poked out from the corner of Kayla's mouth. Her forehead was creased in concentration as she tried incredibly hard to draw a perfect circle. But, no matter what, it just never looked round enough.

Kayla sighed as she reached for her eraser for the hundredth time that day. Dusting the rubber particles away, she tried again to get the circle right. But it just wasn't happening.

"Come _on_!" She pouted in frustration. "Stupid circle. Why can't you be round?"

When the shape in question didn't answer, Kayla picked up the eraser and tried again. She _had_ to get it right. Her stepmother deserved the absolute best for Mother's Day, and a wonky circle would not make the cut.

\-----

"Happy Mother's Day!" Kayla chorused excitedly with her stepfather as they walked into the master bedroom. A beautiful woman was lying comfortably on the expensive bed, awaiting a warm breakfast and celebratory gifts.

Kayla happily bounced to her stepmother's side, but she had to refrain herself from jumping on the bed. She remembered the scolding she'd received the last time she had messed up the bedroom, and she didn't want a repeat of that.

"Happy Mother's Day, Sandra," her stepfather said, handing over a tray of black coffee, buttered toast, cinnamon pancakes and the best silverware they had. It was a breakfast fit for royalty, but was it worthy?

"Thank you, dear," Sandra said absentmindedly as she took a tentative sip from the coffee. A _'hmph'_ was the only reaction before she moved on to the toast. Taking a fork and knife, Sandra Beaumont daintily cut off a small morsel of the bread. She nibbled at it and frowned, but didn't say anything. She was saving her comments until the end.

Kayla's fingers curled nervously as her stepmother looked critically at the pancakes. Using a clean pair of silverware, she cut out a slice of the cinnamon flavoured dough and chewed the end. Kayla held her breath, waiting for the verdict.

Sandra sighed. "The coffee's too hot, the toast is too cold, and the pancakes are just... no." She pushed the tray away and straightened her back, plastering a smile on her face. "Maybe your presents will make up for it."

Kayla bit her lip. She had never known her real parents and had been raised by Sandra and Jonathan Beaumont. Therefore, she had been taught from a young age that perfection was a necessity, and if something wasn't perfect, it wasn't worth it.

You see, the Beaumont's were the type of people you would call snobs. They only associated with "qualified people", that is to say " rich jerks". And any playdates that Kayla had ever been on had always been with unbelievably posh five year olds.

So now Kayla shuffled nervously, scared that her present was not up to her stepmother's standards.

"Come on, dear. Hand over my gift," Sandra cooed with fake encouragement. Kayla tentatively handed her the creation she had worked so hard on earlier, awaiting judgement. Her stepmother delicately unfolded the paper to reveal a string of paper dolls. She examined them all critically with her piercing blue eyes, looking each doll up and down.

She sighed yet again. "Nice try, dear. But the head is a little off. It's not perfect, and you know that art always has to be perfect. If you're going to be an artist one day, you need to master the concept of perfection, like me."

And Kayla sighed in defeat, trudging back to her room.

\-----

_Obtain a piece of paper._

_Fold in quarters._

_Draw the outline of a woman. Her head should be round and her dress straight._

_Cut out the woman and unfold._

_Stand up your row of paper people._

\-----

Kayla sighed as she reached for the eraser yet again. How hard could it be to draw a freaking circle? She had been trying for what seemed like forever, sitting on her bed in the Apollo cabin.

Just when she was about to throw the paper away, her brother Lee strolled in. He walked over to her curiously.

"Hey Kay, what're you doing?" He asked, sitting on the bed next to his sister.

"I'm trying to make paper dolls." She replied simply.

"Paper dolls? What for?"

"For Michael's birthday, duh."

Lee had to hide a smile as he imagined Michael Yew, who liked to think he was the toughest person in the world, receiving a string of delicate paper dolls for his birthday.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll love them," he said encouragingly. But then he noticed the frown on his sister's face. "What's wrong, Kay?"

"I can't get the circle perfectly round," she pouted, gesturing dejectedly to the paper in her lap.

Lee leaned forward to take a look. "It looks pretty round to me." He said.

Kayla rolled her eyes. "Well, it's not. There's a little bump right there." She pointed to the edge of the circle, and Lee actually had to squint to see the so called 'bump'.

"Kayla, that's tiny. No one will notice that," he said comfortingly.

"I'll notice it," Kayla retorted. "Besides, it _has_ to be perfect."

"No it doesn't. One little bump won't matter; it won't make any difference at all. You don't have to stress about it so much."

Kayla's expression was troubled. "But doesn't art have to be perfect?" She said in a small voice.

Lee frowned at her. "No, not at all. Who told you that? Art is like a journey of emotions and expressions. It's about the big picture, the final destination. One little bump in the road isn't going to make a difference."

Kayla's forehead creased at her big brother's words. So art wasn't about perfection after all. She had been wrong, Sandra and Jonathan Beaumont had been wrong. And now that she knew the truth, she had a completely different outlook on life.

"Don't stress, Kay. You'll get it right in the end." And with that, Lee kissed the top of her head and walked out, leaving her with a swirling tornado of thoughts.

\-----

_Obtain a piece of paper._

_Fold in quarters._

_Draw the outline of anyone. Their head can be any shape you want and their clothes unique._

_Cut out the person and unfold._

_Enjoy your row of beautiful creations._

\-----

Kayla hummed happily as she sketched out her circle. She noticed some bumps here and there, but they were easily dismissed. She drew the most mismatched clothes she could think of, expressing the ease she felt.

Not once did she stress about straight lines or symmetry; she just drew what she felt like. And she felt happy.

Cutting out her creation, she didn't pay any mind to the creases in the paper and the minuscule specks of dirt. Instead she focused on the overall shape of a wonderful... thing.

Kayla couldn't even tell what it was supposed to be. But she didn't care; it was her art, her creation. And those little imperfections didn't matter at all.

 


End file.
